Pilates

Cirque du Soleil delivery

Pregnancy in Diabetes, Uncategorized

If you saw this flashcard, what would you think was being asked of you (Take note: It will be interesting to see the differences between the male and female answers): During a recent prenatal class, flashcards were handed out for us moms-to-be to practice different pain-abating positions to help during the dreaded delivery (which seems to get more and more dreadful with every prenatal class I attend). When Big Ring picked this one up, he told me I had to get on the ball, flat on my back, feet and arms in the air, all acrobatic style. I gave him a questioning look, like are you kidding me, I can barely get out of bed on my own, how the hell am I supposed to manage this? But he was adamant, this is what you have to do, he said; I’m sure silently laughing his ass off that he didn’t […]

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Ch…ch…ch…changes

Running, Training

Change can’t all be bad, right? (says the girl who does NOT adapt well to change at all) I mean the changing of seasons, especially from summer to fall is gorgeous, and going from a single girl to a married girl, that was kind of fun, and after years of letting Type 1 control me, finally taking the bastard by the horns and kicking it in the ass over and over again, that’s kind of … exhilarating, really. Changing of the seasons in Berlin 2010 And yet, I am a girl who more times than not does not like change. I like things a certain way, I like routine, I like to know what’s coming at me at all times. (Just look at my lunch. Five days a week, I eat a ham and cheese sandwich, with an apple and yogurt. On the weekend, every weekend, without fail, I eat

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Breaking the habit

Training

No chocolate? Crunches in the evening? My world is being turned upside down. I’m not sure exactly how it happened, but it’s been 13 days since my tongue last tasted the dreaminess of chocolate, sunk down into its delectable milkiness, and slowly rolled it from cheek to cheek just as a sommelier would minus the spitting out. 13 days!!! Wha-at? I am a chocoholic. My addiction is so extreme, once on a Lufthansa flight to Florence, when I discovered a box of sample Ritter Sport chocolates (hazelnut-raisin, le sigh!) near the washrooms, I seriously went to the washroom every five minutes stuffing my pockets and fists full of chocolates! And then there’s my drawer o chocolate at work stuffed full of Swiss chocolate, Belgian chocolate, French chocolate, German chocolate, chocolate chocolate, chocolate. (Only the best of course!) Recently, I spent more than $20 to restock it. That drawer started out

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Ode to revenge

Training

Hehe, I have revenge brewing in my veins 😀 After last night’s pilates session, which I dubbed one hour of ab-sweating hell, I decided it was high time I got even with my pilates chicks. I’ve been on this new program for two weeks now, and while I am getting faster at remembering what the heck I’m supposed to do, it’s not getting easier, and the She-Ra abs have not yet surfaced … believe me, I keep checking … like every day … okay fine, like every 10 minutes. (What do you mean I’m not patient, I’m like the definition of patience!) And so, yeah, it’s time I enact a little of my own payback. No, no, there won’t be any stinky shoes involved this time around (although, I am in serious need of a stinky shoe remedy, any suggestions?) nope, this revenge is of the outwitting sort dare I

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Recipe for stinky feet

Training

You know, I actually went into Pilates yesterday feeling somewhat remorseful for the shoes I wore that day, shoes I often refer to as Stinky Feet Katie shoes. But upon leaving the studio, there was no more remorse, in fact, I wished I’d rubbed my feet through the cow paddies in my parents’ fields. Oh yeah, every thought of revenge surging through my crying body. But first, the shoes and my guilt. I don’t know what it is about these shoes, they’re high quality leather, well made, good brand, cute as can be, but they’re also flats, which require bare feet, and anything bare feet plus heat is a recipe for stinky feet. So, before going to Pilates, I scrubbed and scrubbed my feet in the bathtub at my moms trying to wash away the stench as best I could, and even rubbed in some peppermint smelling foot therapy to

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